


Within You

by SarahBaggins



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I don't even know how to use tags, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, My First AO3 Post, Post-Second War with Voldemort, sorry i killed the main characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26362663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahBaggins/pseuds/SarahBaggins
Summary: The world as they knew it ended with Voldemort's win. The Order of Phoenix is no more, all of its members killed or scattered around the world. The rampant killing of muggleborn witches and wizards after the Battle of Hogwarts alerted humans to the Wizarding world. A war between the groups began across all continents.Though many don't trust him, Draco Malfoy is the new Overlord in Britain, mostly ruling from the shadows. But with great responsibility comes a great burden. Luckily for Draco, at some point during his years of serving Lord Voldemort, he stopped feeling pain or emotions, making him a perfect killing machine. Less so of a leader to a broken nation.When the Aurors find a strange woman, hidden in the ruins of Hogwarts, his frozen soul stirs into life again.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and welcome! 
> 
> A short intro to put us in the mood, and the world, of the story.

The world they lived in was not the world they were born to.

**_“The Boy-who-lived is Dead! Lord Voldemort takes his rightful place as the Ruler of the United Kingdom”_ **  
**_“Golden Trio no more, Order of the Phoenix terrorists to be killed on spot”_ **  
**_“Lord Voldemort takes over the Ministry of Magic, old Ministers thrown to jail before trials”_ **  
**_“Malfoy family killed during the Battle of Hogwarts, young Draco Malfoy sole heir to the fortune”_ **

Moving front pages of Daily Prophet in simple black metal frames, chronologically hanged around the room, stared back at him. Golden Trio’s bodies not even buried for the first three ones. Rita Skeeter frantically working to become Lord Voldemort’s main propaganda journalist. Not once has she mentioned the state of Hogwarts, with its dead students lying scattered on the ground, or the professors who gave their lives defending them. Nor did she mention how Death Eaters went straight back to London moments after Harry’s death to celebrate their victory by murdering any muggleborn wizard or witch they could find.

_**“Lord Voldemort pushes forward for Muggle free Wizarding World - Long have we lived in the shadows of those beneath us!”** _  
_**“Dementors patrol for your safety. Muggle-attacks at real Wizards and Witches have grown more common in the past two years ”** _  
_**“Make Magic great again, no more Muggleborns allowed across the borders”** _  
_**“Draco Malfoy, Lord Voldemort’s right hand - most eligible bachelor in the United Kingdom”** _

The last headline hurt the most, seeing himself looking straight into the camera, smirking at whoever was watching. Long blond hair touched his shoulders, signet ring adorned the hand upon his chin rested. How can anyone trust him now when he looked so power-hungry only three years ago.  
Immediately after coming to power, Voldemort saw to Muggleborn wizards and witches systematically killed throughout the country. What he never took into account was that Muggleborns actually had lives outside of the magical society. When they first began to go missing, friends and families started to worry, muggle police got involved, higher instances of human government somehow got through the barriers and the veil on magic got lifted.

**_“Order of the Phoenix found - read about the last known location in Prophet’s latest issue!”_ **  
**_“Muggles attacking our culture, we will fight back - Voldemort promises swift retribution for the attacks on wizards and witches”_ **  
**_“Lord Voldemort controlling Muggle Politicians, only the first steps towards independence!”_ **

His personalized wall of shame, covered in all the hurtful front pages reminding him about the failures of the last years. He came here before every new mission, reminiscing on the past, searching to fuel himself with pain and anger for what has been done in the name of magic.

_**“Not a single Muggleborn wizard left in the United Kingdom - Lord Voldemort delivers on his promises!”** _  
_**“Minerva McGonagall dead after a Hogwarts raid led by Draco Malfoy”** _  
_**“Division in the ranks - Draco Malfoy caught helping Mudbloods out of the country”** _  
_**"Youngest commander of Voldemort's army waiting in jail for his trial"** _

In the end, the fight was not as gruesome as many believed it to be. When he finally got the courage to stand up to Voldemort, broken by his own life choices, there was nothing left for Draco to fear. His old master never understood the willingness to sacrifice oneself for the sake of others, especially not in one of the most noble Malfoy blood.

**_“Lord Voldemort killed by the hand of his most close disciples”_ **  
**_“Overlord Draco Malfoy - the man who did the unimaginable and took over control in only one night”_ **  
**_“Ministry reinstated, Sacred 28 back in power controlling the government”_ **  
**_“Will the man who holds the United Kingdom in the palm of his hand succeed where others have failed?”_ **

It was too late. By the time he took over, the Muggle military was well aware of the existence of magic. Muggleborn witches and wizards fleeing from Voldemort unintentionally opened rifts across the magical protections. It was never published in the Prophet, but Malfoy was present during the first, and last, meeting between Voldemort and one of the human representatives. It didn’t go well for the Muggle. But it didn't go as Voldemort planned neither, though public believed otherwise.

**_“Magical disappearings continue - Muggles or Voldemort supporters behind the acts?”_ **  
**_“Do we really trust the killer of beloved Professor McGonagall when it comes to our safety?”_ **  
**_“Muggle Military sighted inside major magical locations, do not go on vacation to these places…”_ **

Everyday fights continued, but on a different front. Wizards and witches of all blood statuses were no longer divided by Voldemort, but they weren't united under Malfoy either. Everyone he ever had any deeper connection to has died, either by his own hand or in front of him. And the only crime he wasn’t guilty of, the murder of Minerva McGonagall, he couldn't prove to his fellow citizens. That is why Malfoy at the young age of twenty-seven ruled from the shadows, helping the Ministry as much as he could without ever getting in the limelight again.

“It can’t be healthy for you to read those over and over again,” came the voice of his childhood friend from behind. “You know that half of it was just propaganda.”

“It’s a reminder Blaise,” Malfoy answered.

“Some things are better forgotten, and you know it,” came the response. “It’s time for us to move, everyone is in position.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters' mental health is probably not at its best in this story. At least in the beginning. Even though I consider them mild, TRIGGER WARNING for situations where they on purpose inflict pain, or worse, upon themselves.

The cold lingered in the morning air, a reminder of Autumn's fast approach. Sun was about to rise above the clouds, and the mist rose with it from the fields surrounding the castle. From the outside, Hogwarts looked impressive and untouched. Malfoy and the Ministry spent the last three years working on the physical and magical reconstruction of the place. It was not to remain a destroyed monument of wizardkind's darkest moment, but once again a place of joy and children's laughter. Its facades glazed with the frozen drops of water, making the stone glisten in the morning light. A couple of birds flew across the sky, announcing the new day to come. 

Spectacular scenery meant little to Malfoy and Zabini as they apparated outside the castle wards. Their assignment seemed trivial at first, not worth involving such high ranking figures. It was the alarm triggered by Auror's blood that made Zabini understand something bigger was going on. Muggles detected outside Hogwarts perimeter usually indicated that a wizard or a few have breached inside the castle. Muggle families often hired wizards to search for any belongings left by their relatives who studied at Hogwarts. At this point, it almost became a routine for Aurors to wait to catch the thieves red-handed and Obliviate the Muggles. But not this time...

"What are the casualties? On both sides?" asked Malfoy as they approached the main entrance.

"Three of our men, all of them killed outside of the Hogwarts grounds. None of theirs," and then he added glancing sidewise at Malfoy, "...yet."

"What's the plan?"

"We have one team handling the scene outside the perimeter. It seems that the MICs left the premises without the package. The other group of Aurors is waiting for us inside. They have sealed off the area and are waiting for your command."

Malfoy acknowledged the answer with a nod of his head. It was unfortunate to have casualties at the grounds only one week before the reopening. They needed to swiftly neutralize the attackers and without too much damage to the property. Otherwise, the opening ceremony could not be held on the 1st of September. 

"I can see your brain calculating Draco," said Blaise as they opened the main gate leading into the castle. "Please tell me we won't just kill everyone? We don't want the news to connect you to more Hogwarts killings." 

"You should have thought about that before you summoned me here." Draco understood well what bad publicity meant, even if he didn't feel the sting of it as deeply as others maybe did. His reputation had yet to recover from getting connected to the murder of professor McGonagall. People called him a cold-hearted assassin, ready to do anything for his own gain. What they all missed was the big picture, the survival of the entire magical world, not just its individuals. "We will do what's best, there is no place for emotions in strategy Blaise."

As they walked through the castle's hallways, Malfoy grew wary while listening to a more detailed report of the events. Everything Zabini mentioned pointed out to the M.I.C. Their organization used smaller groups of wizards that hid underground and believed doing muggle government's dirty work was in the name of good.

With all the technology at their disposal, muggles still couldn't manage to find magical sites without insider help. This is why the United Kingdom's Magical Investigation Center, M.I.C. for short, used rouge wizards instead. These wizardkind bore so much hate for the pure-bloods, that they would hurt entire communities in an attempt to see the Sacred Twenty-eight removed from the Ministry. 

They arrived at the steps leading down the main corridor and into the dungeons. An Auror waited for them there, out of breath. 

"My Overlord," he made a slight head-bow. "Lord Zabini. We have them cornered. There are only four of them out here. The fifth one entered the door at the end of the corridor and hasn't left it." 

The fight was short. Aurors started with some milder curses, trying to stay out of the way of hexes. It was when the first Unforgivable was cast by the rogues that Malfoy stepped in. With two swipes of his wand and one wordless spell, it was all over. Four lifeless bodies lied across the corridor. Malfoy gave short feedback regarding Aurors' curses and tactics, before ordering them to come back after removing the bodies. 

Blaise looked sadly at his friend, thinking of how much their lives have changed since the last time they were at Hogwarts. Everyone respected Overlord Malfoy since he was the one to kill Lord Voldemort, yet no one really cared for him. Except for his closest friends. Most of the other people were scared of Malfoy, even in cases like this, when he saved their lives.

"Shall we see what is behind door number one?" Blaise asked jokingly, camouflaging his dread.

As he approached the end of the corridor, each breath Malfoy made felt like punishment for his mere existence. A surge of pain washed his body every time he used dark magic. The ghosts of past danced around him, breaking like waves before they could reach his frozen shores. There was no love left in Malfoy, no emotion to be awoken with memories of what was or could have been. But he did recognise the feeling of pain. He remembered fear and torture and would cling to those feelings like an addict. On some days, he even had glimpses of his mother's love as she used to tend for him. But it all seemed distant, vague behind a grey curtain of reality and his current mission. He was about to enter the room when an easily recognizable voice shouted after him.

“Mister Malfoy,” the elderly portrait of professor McGonagall yelled repeatedly as she rushed through different paintings trying to catch up with him. “Mister Malfoy, I need to speak to you!” There was panic in her voice, giving it a screeching sound. He planted his feet in one place, waiting for the woman to reach him. “I need you to promise me that you won’t act rashly,” Minerva said out of breath. 

Portraits sometimes remained with their human traits, especially after being freshly painted. As living art, Professor needed neither air nor heavy breathing, but she still looked as flustered as if she ran a mile.

“Then you know why I am here?” answered Malfoy without turning around. “You kept this weapon hidden from me this entire time. Maybe even used it against me?” A bite of accusation in the question made his late professor flinch. 

“Mr Malfoy, it is not so. She is not a weapon.”

“She? What is she, then?” he bit back, turning to look straight into the woman’s eyes, irritated by the fact she had managed to deceive him. 

“She is a gift. Please, promise me you will not kill her.” Professor’s protests continued as he walked towards the door, Blaise following closely behind. The last thing he heard before entering was “Draco… please”.

The room they entered was cosy, filled to the brim with books, overflowing from shelves, tables and chairs. One of the corners had a fireplace with a few embers still glowing. It was not a small room, yet it looked crammed as Malfoy and Zabini walked in. Opposite the entrance stood a queen size bed with a woman sitting by its foot. 

"Please, he didn't listen," she softly spoke, "you all need to leave here." 

At her feet, a man lied. He was still breathing, but it was a matter of minutes before it would be too late to help him. A scorching mark was burning red, from his fist that still held the wand, up to his right cheek. It was the last of the wizards, the one who entered the room before everyone else.

"We are not here to hurt you," said Blaise, stepping closer to her, hands held up high in the air. "We just want you to come with us to the Ministry so we can talk while medics help this man."

Malfoy couldn't tell her age as most of her face was covered by hair. It was even lighter than his own, almost pure white. Instead of being sleek and neatly put together, her hair bounced all over her shoulders and back, looking hard to tame. Woman's head was pointing to the floor, but he could feel her gaze following every step taken. Her bony fingers were grabbing the sheets, boring small half-moons into the fabric. The slender frame of her body would shake every couple of seconds, making her look like she was fighting some invisible force. 

"I don't have time for this," said Malfoy, running low on patience. This whole day was a big pile of mess, and he just wished for it to end. 

He raised his wand, ready to cast the levitating spell on the man's body. As soon as he said the incantation, a beam of red light appeared in the woman's fist. Not having enough time to change his spell and do the necessary handwork, Malfoy cast the first wandless spell he could think of.

"Crucio," he snarled, all the dark energy of the spell pointed at the woman. Both of her hands were raised and between them, he could see a bolt of lightning coloured red. Crucio hit her straight in the chest, throwing her back on the bed. Her own spell realised, hit the shelves closest to Malfoy and demolished them with a bang. At the same time, three Aurors barged inside the room, their wands out and ready to cast. 

"Good, you're here," Malfoy said with his face crunched in focus. He chose not to linger on the fact Crucio was the first spell that came to his mind, so ready to be cast and slip his lips. "Take this wizard to the nearest medic and then have him prepared for questioning. I'll be right with you."

Malfoy looked up at Blaise who seemed to be concentrated on the body lying on the bed, breathing hard under the curse, but making no noise. The woman didn’t even flinch. Time passed and not only did she not start to scream, but Zabini began to look back at Draco questioningly. At his end, Malfoy knew that he was nearing the point when the curse would kill her. Finally, he broke the connection. His little finger with the family's signet ring twitched three times as he felt the last of the spell leave him. Draco suddenly realised that he had no control over what happened. For the first time in many years, he wondered if he should be afraid? 

"Fuck, that was stupid."

"You could have killed her Draco," muttered Zabini while both of them crouched over the bed. 

"Blaise..." answered Draco back to his childhood friend, his eyes skipping from the woman's to Blaise's face. She was still, except for her chest that rapidly rose and fell, showing that the curse did affect her. 

"How long was she under Crucio? Do you think that her brain is still working?"

"Blaise, stop babbling," scolded Draco. He suddenly looked tired, as if the curse had hit him and not her. A sentiment grew inside of him, a yearning to be shared with his oldest friend. But to acknowledge a slip, a possibility of being less than the best, he could not allow himself that weakness. 

"Look, she is waking up!"

A growl, not at all ladylike, left her lips. She lifted her hands towards her face and swept at the hair plastered across it. Both Zabini and Malfoy felt entranced seeing her eyes for the first time, as she frantically looked from one to another. They were, though beautifully shaped, as white as her hair. Long, dark eyelashes and black pupils, emphasized even more, the lightness of her irises. 

"You..." she focused on Malfoy, squinting and gasping. "You brute..."

She coughed and turned to the side, spitting blood on the white sheets beneath her. "At least you stopped me," she continued, swiping with her backhand and smearing the blood over her lips and chin.

Both men stood silently, looking at the woman in front of them. It was Malfoy who first came to himself and commanded attention.

"You attacked an official. We need to take you in. Do you understand?"

She looked at him like he was the most stupid person she ever met. With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, she looked down at her feet making Malfoy follow her gaze.

"Have any of you gentlemen noticed that I am chained?" she shook her ankle as proof. "It is because I am not allowed to leave this place. The chain is not even long enough for me to leave this bed! It's only when other people are in the room, that it grows long enough for me to grab a book, or relieve myself." 

She slowly rose, silently asking for permission to move. When neither of the men reacted, she walked from the bed to the fireplace bending over it as to warm herself. 

"It is not a life," she whispered, "but torture." An idea began to form in her head. It was about a lethal outcome of a dangerous game with the blonde man faster than her. She asked before changing her mind "Could you clean my clothes before we leave?"

"Sure thing," Blaise replied happily, glad to see her being able to talk after the pain curse. As he raised his wand towards her face and flicked his wrist to cast Scourgify, the woman jolted straight towards Malfoy, leaving him with only seconds to whisper his own Stupefy. Her body froze midair and fell just a couple of steps from him. Small, shiny light in her fist, went down and disappeared. It all happened so fast that Zabini didn't even manage to stop his spell.

"Your reflexes have deteriorated immensely by the looks of what just happened," grunted Malfoy. "Keep that in mind while you move her to the Ministry dungeons.” Walking out of the room, he looked at the two returning Aurors ”Make sure nothing happens to neither her nor you on your trip back. I have to speak with the M.I.C survivor.”

* * *

Speaking with the only surviving member of the MIC was easier said than done, Malfoy learned. Once healed, Aurors took him to an interrogation cell at the Ministry and left him there. He stayed silent since. Breaking him was the last thing Malfoy looked forward to after exposing himself to so much dark magic in a single day. But it was unavoidable.

Humans were on the verge of discovering too much about the magical world and its secrets. Lord Voldemort opened for it himself when he decided to kill all muggleborn wizards and witches. Two rifts of fighting, one between the wizards and the other with the muggles, were prooving extremely hard to close. Even for someone as powerful as Malfoy has become. 

Not all humans knew about magic and out of those who did, not all were against it. But the ones that were, they were scared and as ruthless as Lord Voldemort himself. Pure-bloods and half-bloods were caught and sentenced as human criminals, locked away in labs and researched upon. Muggle technology was used in the cruellest possible ways, and even those saved from the labs were lost to the magic, forever. Lucky ones got killed immediately upon capture. Malfoy tried to be present for every attempt of extraction, though less and less of lately. Every time a mission ended with retrieving a corpse, conspiracies and smearing campaigns started. On top of that, many still accused him of being Voldemort's right hand and contributing to the mess they were in. In their eyes, no amount of good deeds could lessen his past and they wanted him nowhere near the Ministry. Even after taking away the pure-blooded traditions and swearing to protect what was left of the muggle-borns, those voices continued to talk against him.

Which is why he needed to gather some reliable information regarding today's fiasco. Hopefully, it was the leader of the group that tried to retrieve the woman and got hurt in the process. 

He looked through the interrogation mirror, something he borrowed from the muggle facilities they often had to infiltrate. The wizard in the chair was maybe 18 years old, practically a kid, wearing something that once was a white t-shirt, black jeans and a leather jacket. His face was covered partly in blood, but even in his current state, his good looks were easy to notice. Most of the wizardkind that helped M.I.C. were youngsters filled with hatred for the legacies of the world they had never experienced themselves. It was clear that Azkaban was not the place to help these lost souls, but he had no better solution for the moment. And for the ones who cast Unforgivable first, there was no place left, not even in Azkaban.

Malfoy was almost sad as he entered the room, starting with the questioning even before the door closed behind him.

"Why did you lead muggles to Hogwarts?"

Silence.

"How did you know where to shot while the barrier was still holding?"

More silence, and an angry look.

"Why didn't you surrender once surrounded?" and again "What did you want with the woman?"

The man in front of him spat, before aiming his gaze at Malfoy. 

”We want what is ours - revenge for how the Purebloods have treated us for ages! Retribution for the families they have separated or killed. Repayment for all the times we had to act like we were less worthy than you.”

A deep sigh left Malfoy's chest. He was growing tired of it all. There was no amount of persuading that could change an opinion like that. He could already see that this was going to be a short interrogation.

”What you are asking for is to kill all the pure-blooded wizards and witches that have fought in the war. You would be tearing apart their families, killing their parents and children. Creating the same situation, over and over again, where the pure-blooded children will grow up and decide to avenge their parents.” 

How stupid were these people? It's true that in his youth Draco was brainwashed, too. Older generations decided for him and his friends. Their obsolete views became facts and a way of living. 

”Why should only we know about the pain?” yelled the young leader, safely chained to a stool he sat on. "Their technology is getting more advanced each day. Soon you won't be able to hide behind magic and we will be free!" 

If the technology was so far ahead, the window for making a change was closing too fast on Malfoy. Even though he knew that it was too late for his redemption. Too many of his curses found their targets for him to seek atonement. But he would try to save as many others as possible.

Malfoy was getting annoyed by the person in front of him. He just lost three of his men, four of the muggleborns were killed and their deaths would be blamed on him, and this, kid, wouldn’t shut up about even more killings. 

Without warning he reached for his wand and started to extract the memories from his hostage, searching for the information about the mysterious woman. M.I.C. seemed to believe that she had an important role to play in taking pure-bloods down. Their instructions were to stealthily take her out of the castle. The Auror killings jeopardized the entire mission, alerting the Ministry. If they had controlled their rage, she would have been out of Hogwarts and Malfoy wouldn't even know of her existence. It prompted him to go deeper, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he tried to break the barriers shielding the right information. Someone powerful had tempered with the rogue's memories leaving most of it blank. Nothing else was useful.

Without offering a word of explanation, Malfoy pocketed his wand, closed the gap between him and the chair, and broke the wizard's neck.

”This way you won’t have to deal with any more pain, ever again,” said Malfoy allowing his men to enter the room and dispose of the body. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't dare to read the finished chapter after I copy it to the Archives :) Here comes the next chapter, where our two protagonists finally get to interact a bit. 
> 
> Also, a question to other newbie writers here: do you also sometimes feel like the only reason for the story is to create a setup for certain scenes you've imagined? Or is it just me?

British Ministry of Magic functioned more or less as usual since being reinstated after Lord Voldemort perished. Its building stood as deep as always, hidden behind layers and layers of magic. Behind those, semi-full departments of seasoned, and new, employees were trying to put the country back together. Those who survived the War returned gladly to their posts, making sure to find replacements for their fallen colleagues. 

Role of the Minister of Magic, as the highest position in the country, was immediately offered to Draco Malfoy. Out of respect for him ending the War, and of out of fear of insulting him, nobody else was nominated. The offer was a calculated way to keep young Malfoy in check, making sure that he couldn't go back to his family's more frowned upon traditions. Young or not, by killing Lord Voldemort, he had proven himself to be the most dangerous wizard in the United Kingdom, if not the entire world. Ministry had to find a way to put a leash upon him, and what other way was better to reign him in, than the same that bound everyone else - law and public position.

When Malfoy officially rejected being called the Minister of Magic, saying that a better-suited person was yet to come, the Ministry created a new unit named the Council of Magic. It was meant to bring balance to the system as a small number of survivors from the Order of Phoenix, and the Sacred 28 had to govern it together. In charge of all was Draco Malfoy. His new title was that of an Overlord, involved with every major political decision, as well as different missions where his field-knowledge was of practical use.

* * *

There was an emergency meeting to be held after what happened at Hogwarts. A few minutes he could spare, Malfoy used to check in with the healer who was in charge of the woman Aurors brought in. She was still unconscious from the curse he used, and he made it clear to the healer that no one was to interact with the woman before he had a chance to do it himself. In case anything went wrong, the same Aurors that were at Hogwarts were to be contacted again to help. Under no circumstances should new people be introduced to the case, Malfoy made it clear. Assured that his rules would be followed, he apparated directly to the Council's chamber and his seat. 

"We need to discuss the witch we took from Hogwarts before meeting with the Ministry tomorrow," Zabini started the moment Malfoy arrived. "We don't know anything about her except that she is dangerous and M.I.C. wanted her extracted from there."

An orb floated in the centre of the room, black until Zabini tapped it with his wand. Slowly, it revealed their captive lying on a simple bed inside of the interrogation cell, her messy hair splayed around her body. Position of her arms and legs indicated that she was unconscious rather than sleeping. 

"Here she is, the reason why we lost three of our men," Zabini said tiredly. 

"Why was she at Hogwarts in the first place?" asked a voice from one of the Phoenix members Malfoy never learned how to like.

"We know next to nothing. But after some interviews, we can confirm that the woman has been there for a longer period of time. Probably even while McGonagall was alive."

A collective gasp filled the room up, all eyes turning towards Draco. It was no secret that it was Professor McGonagall who turned him against Voldemort. A question "Why would an ally hide such information?" was on everybody's minds.

"Why is she unconscious?" Yet another voice asked. 

"Her magic is very peculiar. From what we experienced, it seemed to work as some sort of defence mechanism, triggered either by spells or physical proximity. She hurt one of the muggles before we even got in there." 

Draco's brain wouldn't stop assessing the situation during Zabini's speech. McGonagall knew about the woman, so much she said herself. She even begged of Draco to spare her life. He was used to being betrayed, but he never believed his old professor had something to hide from him. In a way, it hurt that he didn't foresee all of this. Everything that happened was his mistake and his alone.

"I want her moved to the Mansion," said Malfoy, his stone-like expression quieting the Council. "We don't know if she is important at all. It might be a simple decoy by M.I.C. for us to lose time with. Whatever the case, I prefer all of you dealing with the more urgent matters, while I learn more about the prisoner". 

"You cannot have her as a hostage inside the Manor, Malfoy!" Ginny Weasley jumped slightly in her chair while yelling at him. "Ministry would never allow it."

After the War, Draco grew to appreciate Ginny Weasley and her fiery heart. He understood that people found him cruel, maybe even more than Lord Voldemort. Everybody knew that the Dark Lord was mad, and it sometimes made it easier to try and justify his actions. But there was no such excuse for Malfoy's heir. He was still young, powerful, good looking... And yet, so heartless. What others perceived as sacrifices, he saw as mere steps into assuring that he got what he wanted. And that was were Ginny Weasley stepped in the picture, albeit not knowingly. She was Draco's canary. Her emotions couldn't cloud his judgement, but he still respected and heard what she had to say. If a decision was unnecessarily ruthless, he knew that he could count on her to tell him that. 

"Which is why I want you to keep quiet about it, Red!" replied Malfoy with a steady voice. "We cannot have her stay at the Ministry, where she can hurt people. And returning her to Hogwarts isn't an option."

"What about Azkaban?" Pansy added, "I know it's not as protected as it used to be, but maybe she should be transferred there?" 

Draco looked sharply at his teenage flame. Both Pansy and Astoria survived the War, though not entirely unhurt by it. Some wounds didn't register on the skin, but much deeper, for no one to see. The rest of the Council seemed to be silently agreeing with Pansy, nodding their heads and looking at Draco to see his reaction. Only Red seemed to be disagreeing, her head bowed, shaking left to right. 

"I don't feel comfortable with putting her at Azkaban." Draco wouldn't go more into detail than that, knowing very well that he couldn't provide a good explanation. After all, he wasn't sure about the reason himself, more than his gut telling him not to do it.

”With all due respect, I don't think it is your decision to make," said Zabini while looking at his shoes. His gaze remained locked to the ground while he continued speaking, "I think we all need to agree if she is a potential threat or not. If we are to allow our most important member to have a ticking bomb inside his home, I believe it has to be a decision we all take together." Only then did he dare to look at Malfoy's face, knowing that it won't show any emotions, but still hoping to understand if he crossed a line.

Entire Council looked at their Overlord, surprised by the unlikely event of Malfoy's closest friend questioning a decision. Feeling that there was more to lose than win if an argument ensued, Malfoy reigned in his newly developed emotions and answered calmly back. 

”I will not be questioned about my decisions," Malfoy paused for everyone to take in his words, two fingers massaging his forehead. "Let us go over the points of tomorrow's meeting with the Ministry before my patience dries up completely.” He looked up at Zabini. "And then we can all have a 30 minutes break while I fetch the witch so that Zabini and Nott can sleep well tonight."

* * *

Same two Aurors who helped during the Hogwarts extraction stood in front of the heavy oak door when Malfoy reached it. He stopped in front of them, slightly out of breath after his brisk walk from the main chamber. Apparating inside of the Ministry was possible but tiresome. He always guessed it had something to do with being underground, as apparating towards locations over the ground wasn't as irksome. His eyes searched for the healer he knew was supposed to be here. She was nowhere to be found, and the corridor seemed empty of people except for the two standing right in front of him.

"Overlord Malfoy," one of the Aurors spoke first. "We have been waiting for you."

"Where is the healer I put in charge of this room?"

"Healer Olivia got hurt. We were to replace her until your arrival."

"Hurt? How? She had explicit orders not to engage with the prisoner." Malfoy sometimes wondered how the Ministry hired their people. It's not like he asked for a lot, just for a healer to let him know when the prisoner awakens. 

"The prisoner from Hogwarts woke up some two hours ago," the other guard answered, his brow sweating. Draco's voice must have been sharper than he intended to. "She sounded like in pain. The healer went inside for just a moment."

"She even left her wand outside," added the second Auror in a rush.

"And then we heard terrible screaming. We were able to extract Olivia and send her to the medics," finished the first Auror.

"What a heartful idiot. But also, the woman reacted defensively no matter what type of contact it was, magical or physical," Draco thought for himself. Collecting information in order to strategise and survive was what he did best. It is how he survived since his childhood. Then again, it has been a while since he indulged himself to some danger, and the environment was as controlled as possible. He thanked the Aurors for this information and proceeded through the door, now held open by the two guards.

"You can leave now, I'll take care of the rest."

* * *

As the door closed behind his back, he noticed the state of the room he was standing in. It was an antechamber to the actual cell, empty but for a chair and a magical lamp shining from the middle of the ceiling. It was a copy of an interrogation room Muggles used in their police stations. Something he, unfortunately, got acquainted with quite well during the past years. From his side of the wall, the cell was just behind glass, allowing the full view of the room. 

From the prisoner's side of the wall, it looked like a big mirror reflected back the empty cell. Since the accident with the Healer who entered just as she was waking up, she sat still on the bed, in a meditative pose and with eyes closed. There were no pillows or blankets around since the room changed temperature according to body temperature. She managed to constrain her mane in a low ponytail using one strand of hair to tie it all up together. One single lock kept falling out and floating in front of her nose, abrupting her focus when she felt the door on the other side of the mirror open. Deep inside her, something moved, and she knew a person stepped behind the mirror, someone who she already met. "Breathe in and out, just like you practised, and it will all be ok," she repeated the mantra silently. 

Whoever entered had an overwhelming magical presence. Feeling almost like in a state of a trance, she tried to focus on every little signal she was receiving. In one single moment, she knew who it was - the young, blond man from Hogwarts, named Overlord Malfoy in Professor McGonagall stories. 

If she could focus hard enough, it was almost possible for her to assume his exact place in the room. In her mind, she could see him standing in the corner, looking at her sitting inside like a caged animal. His white hair neatly pulled in a low ponytail, his clothes black and elegant, but still in a modern cut. On his right hand, a golden signet ring shined, some sort of animal catching the light from the lamp above his head. He was leaning on the border between the wall and the glass, keeping himself hidden in case the stone wall suddenly became transparent. Could he know that she felt him the moment he entered?

”It is rude to stare.” It was almost a whisper, but she knew he heard it. ”Are you just going to stand there and glare at me? Or did you come here for a reason?” It was when he first spoke that she dared to open her eyes, focusing where she believed that his grey eyes would be.

”I wanted to see how you were feeling.” Malfoy's voice came from the corner of the room, just as predicted. It indeed was him. She let go of the air she held while waiting to hear him speak. It was just her luck that the most dangerous wizard on Earth would be interested in her health.

”I’ve been better… But I’ve also been worse. Quite hard to pinpoint how I feel about getting abducted and locked away in a cell.”

”I have been informed about an attack at the Healer appointed to you. Care to explain?”

”What is there to explain? You know by now how the magic works.” she answered. ”I told her not to touch me. I would never hurt another being intentionally.” The accusing sting in her voice hit the spot, exactly where planned. 

”I see,” rolled from his tongue in a dull manner some aristocrats spoke to people that they deemed unworthy. 

”I don’t,” was her comeback. 

The wall between rooms cracked lightly, as one by one, starting from the middle, each stone turned transparent. Her torturer revealed just as she has imagined him, plus a smirk crooking his full lips. Apparently, he liked his pray rebellious. A small gasp left her lips as she was finally eye to eye with her captor.

”If you wish of me to ask for forgiveness for the spell I used on you, don’t waste your breath. In the situation we were in, I considered you a threat and reacted as such.” The cold-facts of his statement showed no remorse for the actions from before. “Plus, you do hurt people. Every single time somebody touches you.”

He raised an eyebrow, wordlessly allowing her to question the statement. She remained still because he guessed correctly, whether she liked it or not. It didn’t matter in which way, or by whom she was touched, or even if she was the one doing the touching. People would always get hurt, even those she liked got hurt for interacting with her. 

”Come closer,” he ordered, his voice barren from any type of emotions. She crossed her arms in front of her, mimicking his stance, and stubbornly sat in place. ”Don’t make me ask twice,” and then obviously as an afterthought, he added, "please."

Her bare feet touched the ground, testing for how much support she could muster. It worried her more than anything to admit Malfoy's curse still hurt. She approached him, stopping just before her breath could leave a trace on the glass. He moved closer as well, towering over her even with the glass between them.

"Those men back at Hogwarts tried to kidnap you, why?"

"Men? I only saw one attacker inside my room. You mean to say that there were more of them?" She was still baffled by the fact anyone found her room. That there were more of them made no sense. 

"Yes," Malfoy briskly replied. "And we need to understand who they are before another attack happens."

"Well, that is all nice, but I don't know anything about it."

"You were chained to the bedpost when we found you, why?"

She huffed before replying. "Listen, you can finish every single sentence with why for all I care. I don't have to answer them. Just take me back to Hogwarts so we can pretend none of this ever happened."

Malfoy dry laughed at that. The woman was as feisty as her lightning spell. "There are a couple of reasons why that is not an option anymore. And also why you do have to answer. To start with, you are a prisoner of the Magical Law Enforcement department, accused of attack on an officer of the law."

She seemed taken aback with this information, yet still wouldn't cooperate, "I still don't need to tell you anything."

"And I will have to make you talk then, by other means than politeness," Malfoy growled, frowning down at her.

"I attacked so that you could use an Unforgivable on me, do you honestly believe that whatever you do now is going to make a difference?"

"Both you and I know that was an easy way out," he remarked, ignoring her jab. "What I plan to do is search deep within you. And when I find the most painful memory you have, I'll make it repeat over and over again." At that moment he did believe he would do it, torture her for information, Red be damned. She was asking for it, provoking him.

"You would not, your Ministry wouldn't allow it," she dared say even though the power of his Crucio still vibrated under her skin. Back at Hogwarts, she saw a bloodthirst she believed would make him use even Avada if pushed hard enough. But catching a glimpse of his eyes now, she understood that killing her was not an option he had anymore.

"You would not, your Ministry wouldn't allow it," she dared say even though the power of his Crucio still vibrated under her skin. Back at Hogwarts, she saw a bloodthirst she believed would make him use even Avada if pushed hard enough. But catching a glimpse of his eyes now, she understood that killing her was not an option he had anymore.

He took a step back from the glass, turning his back to her as he walked around the small anteroom. "I want to offer you a chance to leave this place."

"Because you would feel bad about torturing me?" her voice dripped with fake concern as she mocked him.

"I didn't say that you would be free," he ignored her. "But you would have a nicer prison than this," making a gesture towards the empty room. "And you wouldn't have to be scared of hurting anyone." 

She took a deep open-mouth breath before asking, "I thought I was a prisoner of the Ministry?"

"You are what I want you to be." Malfoy's eyes searched her face for a yes or no, ignoring a shiver that passed through her from head to toe.

"And I would have to somehow pay for this special treatment?" 

”That is the main idea, yes."

”What if I have no information to give? Are you going to send me to Azkaban then?” 

Draco admitted to not knowing what would happen. She could never return to Hogwarts, not with the students there. And there was still the question of attacks on him and the Healer. Even if he made those go away, she almost killed the muggle agent sent to retrieve her. She snorted at that. It made him smile for the briefest of moments before he caught himself. Sensing that the guard she had since he entered the room was finally down a bit, Draco continued his questioning. 

"How does that magic of yours work anyway?"

"I don't think that it’s mine," it took a while for the woman to answer, probably wondering how much about it was safe to share. "I cannot control it when it happens, and I cannot make it happen unless someone else initiates it."

"Interesting. You mean to say that if I reached out to move that strand of hair from your face, you would hurt me?”

At some point during the conversation, they gravitated towards each other, now standing with only millimetres of thin magical glass between them. Small, gentle palms pushed slightly at the barrier, leaving sweaty traces on its surface. Curious at what would happen, Draco placed his rougher hands over hers. She looked slightly scared, as her eyes rapidly wandered from one hand to another, finally coming back to his face. Nobody commanded her obedience, but she found it impossible to move her hands away from his. 

”You really shouldn’t…” she started to say.

”...touch,” Malfoy finished the sentence while making the glass wall disappear from between them, allowing him to intertwine their fingers.

A moment of complete stillness fell upon them as both sides waited for something to happen. It lasted for a heartbeat before a scream of an animal caught in a deadly trap broke it. The woman pulled with all of the force her gentle body provided, trying to release herself from his grip. She trashed and screamed and cried, begging him to let go of her hands. Yet no magic seemed to flow from her fingers, and the only harm to Malfoy came from her unruly hair that flew in all directions. 

"Stop this," he commanded. "Am I hurting you?"

There was no way of disobeying Malfoy when he put his mind into it. The woman in his hands was no exception to the rule. She still trembled against him, but her movements halted to a stop as her eyes locked to the floor. Focused on breathing, she missed seeing how Malfoy's eyes turned from silver to black and back to their usual colour. Suddenly, she felt his strong arms envelop her still shaking body, pressing her to his chest. 

“Let go of me. Please, you don’t understand,” she cried out, not able to move. Long, thick hair covered her face, hiding it away from Malfoy. 

“Explain it to me then.” 

He could see a battle happening inside of her. A gentle tap of legilimency, so brief even he doubted it worked, told him she was debating internally on what to say. Should she tell him how the magic never hurt, but everything else did? Explain that she knew that elves tempered with her memories, but even when she begged of them to reverse the spell, they would not. Try to make him understand her body got into a flight or fight mode any time another person was in the room? With one single touch, he took away her reality from her. Who was he to touch her and go unharmed? Spread hope where there was none, let it swell inside her chest so big it was getting harder to breathe. He could feel tingles spread from where his fingers touched her naked neck, and he only imagined she felt the same, but tenfolds. 

"I don't understand..." she started in a shaky voice. "Nothing happened."

"I've noticed," Malfoy replied trying to keep his tone even, as not to frighten her. 

"A human I can touch..." She whispered to herself. "It has been years."

"Are you the one controlling it now?"

Silence. Her head was swaying slightly, never following a coherent nod for yes or no answer.

”Please, let go of me," she requested. The Overlord was known for being ruthless. She dared not to think of all the ways Malfoy could ruin her if he ever understood how much he suddenly meant to her. Her chest was rising up and down, getting more in tune with his own breathing as time passed.

"I promise I will. But first, I need you to do something for me. I need you to try and keep your magic inside for just a bit longer." Without any further information, he squeezed her even tighter and apparated from the dungeons. 

* * *

They arrived at the main Courtroom with the woman clutching to Malfoy's clothes. She kept her wide, frightened doe eyes focused on his face, obviously disturbed by everything that was happening. Every fibre of Malfoy's body screamed that she should be hugged and protected but, instead, he put some distance between their bodies, keeping the touch at minimum.

"Here we are, one perfectly random person, and one devilishly handsome wizard," he announced to the room. The room laughed back with Malfoy, all tension seeming to disappear. "As you may see, we are having full-body contact, and I'm still not hurt."

"Shall we double-check this?" Zabini said, rising from his chair. 

A tremor shook her body, slight and invisible to everyone but Malfoy. His hands were still on her waist after the apparation, holding her straight, burning from the touch. He could feel underneath his fingers how whatever power this woman possessed, it wouldn't stay hidden for much longer. "Can you stay focused on me," he whispered in her hair like a lover would. The pure emotion of worry startled him, yet he continued "I won't let go of you, I promise."

Zabini approached the pair, his hand tentatively raised for a greeting. "Hi, I am Blaise Zabini, we met before." As their palms touched for the first time, two things happened simultaneously. 

The moment their right hands met in a greet, she reached back, franticly searching for Malfoy with her free hand. He felt a sharp sensation of magic course through his thigh, where the woman's hand landed. The magic acted as in a closed circuit: her hand transferred it to him, his own hands at her waist gave it back to her. Blaise seemed blissfully unaware yet, Malfoy instinctively knew that if he was to let go, she, with her power, would fry first Zabini and then the rest of the room. At the same time, the Courtroom shook, making everyone jump to their feet and turn sharply towards the main door. Four guards abruptly rushed into the room, putting an end to the handshake and Malfoy's misery. 

"A bomb has been planted in the Ministry," yelled the shortest guard. "It was deactivated in the main hall, we have casualties!"

“Secure the parameter," Malfoy barked the order out. "And don't touch her no matter what!” Then he apparated from the room together with the rest of the Council, leaving her alone with the guards.

She didn’t even have time to react as his form disappeared into thin air, leaving her alone in the middle of the room, surrounded by four Aurors.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously not following any schedule, but here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

The git left her alone after promising that he would not do it. Part of her that was still reasonable knew that expecting of her abductor and attacker to follow through on a promise was plain irrational. Yet, in some forgotten corner of her mind, it felt like Malfoy always meant what he said. She still had to process the fact he could touch her, but it was impossible to focus while everything around seemed to shake.

The room was empty, but for her and two men she recognized from before. The Aurors were standing a couple of steps away from her, their faces cold and emotionless. If she did not know better, she would have thought them not afraid of her. Luckily, by now, she learned how to read small signs and the current shake of the younger Auror's wand told her all she needed to know. 

"What are we supposed to do?" the younger of men whispered, staring directly at her.

"We are going to wait here, at a safe distance from each other, until the Overlord comes back." The answer was loud enough for her to guess the message between the lines. And in a normal situation, his idea would probably work, except that Malfoy's little stunt put her powers on edge.

"It is safer if you wait outside the room," she almost cried out, trying to keep the energy under control. Meditating could relieve some of the pain she felt if they would give her some room. Slowly backing towards the throne-looking chair in the middle of the other seats, she kept her gaze locked on the Aurors. 

The older man, she somehow knew he would answer to Oliver, seemed to think about her proposal. "We are going to move next to the door," he said. "And you could sit in Overlord's chair right behind you, and wait for him there." It was clear that Oliver understood the danger she was putting them in, but disobeying Malfoy seemed to be way scarier. 

She slowly curled up on the seat, feeling some relief as the size of it engulfed her smaller form. Residual magic of the throne's owner seemed to comfort her, adding yet another confusing layer to the whole situation. Malfoy must have been the only one who sat in the chair if she could feel so much of his essence trapped in the wood. Slowing down her breath, she tried to focus on the inside, ignoring the two men by the door. 

Suddenly, another quake shook the room, putting it into complete darkness. Before anyone had time to react, the main door opened, and three more men burst inside.

"We are evacuating, there has been a second bomb," the biggest of them loudly explained, frantically looking around the room. "What is going on in here?"

One look at the man's uniform was enough to let her know he was not an Auror, but a simple guard.

"Official Auror business, you may leave," was Oliver's answer. He now repositioned himself with his back towards the throne, shielding the woman from other men's line of sight. 

"Why are you in the dark? Lumos!" The newcomer had no time to finish the spell, as the throne burst in light, the witch crouching on it lit brighter than any lamp in the room. A flash of lightning bolted towards the man who cast the spell, hitting him square into the face, slicing across his nose and forehead. Oliver jumped away in the last second, as the lightning bounced around the room, going back to its source. When he turned, the witch was screaming in agony, begging for them all to leave the room. Her already white hair and eyes made it look like there was nothing inside of her but pure power and thunder. Where her hands grip the wood, red sparks flew, and the smell of fire started to fill the room. 

Seeing that the second guard was about to cast another spell, Oliver threw himself at the man. "Stop! You must not cast any spells!" He screamed while the guy trashed underneath him, seconds passing before he understood no one was attacking him. Oliver's partner sprang to the hurt guard, grabbing him underneath the shoulders and dragging the wounded men outside of the room. The third guard just stood frozen, looking in horror at the scene in front of him. 

A scream of a wounded animal made all four uninjured men stop with what they were doing and look at the source of the noise. Thin, red lines spread like a wine across the woman's back, burning her clothes in the process. Her magic seemed to have diminished, the light burned into the dark throne that was sparkling like an amber. 

Oliver lift himself of the guard's body, and repeated with firmness in his voice, "No spells or any other magic casts! This is an official Auror business, you have no place being here. Take your hurt companion to a Healer and wait until we come to you. Don't speak to anyone about anything you have seen here. Am I clear?" 

Two remaining guards stumbled out of the room, taking over the hurt body from the younger Auror. They nodded towards Oliver and disappeared before anything else could be said, their faces still clearly in shock.

Once alone, Aurors turned their attention back to the witch. They approached her carefully, aware of the copious amounts of blood surrounding the body, bleeding profusely from the deep wounds on her back. Her eyelids were closed, the forehead shadowed by the pain she must have felt before falling unconscious. The scene was the exact opposite of what Oliver hoped to report to the Overlord. 

"Please survive kid, you did so well," he whispered as he ran for help.

* * *

Light touches across her spine brought her back from the dreamless sleep she was in. The bed she found herself in felt big, even though she could not move her head to access the size of it. Crisp, white sheets felt luxurious, even in comparison to her room at Hogwarts. She forgot long ago if it was a room or a prison. By now it mattered little as she doubted she would ever go back.

She could not see, but she felt Malfoy sitting on the bed, his wand drawing forms across her naked back. The magic felt warm and gentle, her hazed brain rationalizing that no one but Malfoy would dare to perform a spell this near her. Once again, her heart burned in her chest as she understood the magnitude of this man casually touching her body.

Thinking about the body, she gradually evaluated the state of her limbs, discovering that she was naked under the sheets, her lower half of the body covered with a sheet. A sparkle of anger ignited as she tried to voice her problem with taking a person's clothes off while they were unconscious. It came as a blur of sounds, none of the coherent. Malfoy didn't even bother to reply and instead placed his free hand over her eyes, saying a silent spell that put her straight back to sleep.

Next time she woke, she could hear voices outside the room. Though the sounds were low, there was no mistaking when Malfoy talked in his perfect, aristocratic diction. 

"What is it, Zabini?"

"How is she," asked the other voice. She remembered the dark-skinned man who shook her hand at the Ministry.

"You did not come here to discuss her wellbeing," then, after a break, "She is fine, resting. If Oliver found me just a couple of minutes later, the scar would be there forever. I managed to heal the wound, and by the time she wakes up, there will be no traces of it left."

"I know you don't believe it, but we are all relieved. The Ministry is not in the business of hurting people, even when they are considered dangerous."

She couldn't hear what Malfoy replied, but then a louder answer followed. "Her wound was self-inflicted! She tried to keep her magic inside so that those stupid guards could run away. It is more mercy than I would have given those idiots on a good day."

There was a pause, long enough that she thought they moved away from the door.

"I know you like to think of yourself as this cold, unapproachable, mean Death-eater Draco. But you are not, and none of us sees you that way. You don't harm people unless they deserve it, and definitely not if there is nothing positive to gain from it." When Malfoy stayed silent, his friend continued. "The Council knows that you are still the only one who can touch her without harm. The little charade with me holding her hand did not work."

"It does not matter. I want the witch here," she could hear Malfoy's cold statement. 

"Is that wise? What if the reason you can touch her is by intent? To lull you into fake safety before taking you down?" There was real fear in Zabini's words. Whatever the relationship between the two men was, she could hear the care and slight tremor in his voice.

"It is enough Blaise," Malfoy interrupted hastily. "You said what you wanted, no more talk of irrational fears. These walls have too many ears for you to share those kinds of theories freely. Let's walk back to the Floo, I need to be at the Ministry in ten."

It was harder and harder to hear what they were saying. The witch grunted as the pain in her back was getting worse by every moment she struggled against the sleep that was trying to take over. The same question that was tormenting Blaise was on her mind as well. Though her memories were scattered and broken, she could not remember anyone being able to hold her without getting hurt. The magic wasn't always as aggressive as it was now, but she deduced it had something to do with all the stressful situations she was put in recently. Nothing about Draco Malfoy could explain why she felt connected to him or why her magic decided to trust the only man she rationally knew she should run for the hills from. 

With heavy eyelids and a tired mind, she observed an elf tucking her in and then everything went black again.

* * *

"I'll be back in five," said Malfoy as soon as Blaise and he arrived at the Ministry. Knowing that his miscalculation almost cost another Ministry employee his life, sat badly with Draco. He wanted to make sure in person that the injured guard was getting the right medical treatment. 

While waiting for Draco to come back, Blaise wasted no time in search for Theo. He found him leaning casually in one of the niches next to the meeting hall. 

"We need to talk, it's urgent," Blaise whispered while pulling Theo closer by his elbow. "I've spoken to him, and there is no way that he will move her now that she is in the Manor."

"Have you also mentioned..."

"No, I mean, how do I bring it up? He never made a slip before."

"Do you think that the others are also aware," continued Theo in a low voice.

"No, no way," answered Blaise. "Maybe Red since they are weirdly intuned, but there is too much happening since the witch arrived for anyone to notice small details."

"Do you think he knows?"

"I believe we are about to find out," Blaise said, looking over Theo's shoulder.

"What are you two up to?" Malfoy asked, approaching with a sure stride. His dragonhide shoes clack was famous in the whole Ministry, making people move from his path entire corridors before they could see him. 

"How is the guard doing, Michael was it?" Theo asked his friend, ignoring the issue at hand.

"Fine, he will be just fine. The girl, she really did not mean to hurt him." Draco caught himself before defending their captive any further. The look he received told him everything he needed to know. "But I should have known better than to leave them alone with her."

"Anything else recently that you should have known better?" Blaise mentioned keeping his voice as casual as possible. Draco looked at him quizzically. "For example her name, I wanted to check in the register of abducted witches," explained Blaise.

Malfoy got quiet. He forgot to ask. So many things were happening that he didn't even remember to interrogate her on the basics. So eager he was to be alone with the witch. Finally, he paused to acknowledge the adrenalin coursing his veins since the visit to Hogwarts. The feeling was relatively new, long forgotten since he became Lord Voldemort's most trustworthy follower. He could feel the rush in his blood, his brain sending signals he was no longer used to.

"Draco, do you..." Theo did not know how to frame the question. "Are you affected by her? Have you felt anything strange?" He pressed on, asking questions as his brain worked on new theories. "Is there a spell protecting her so that we cannot extract information?" 

The look in Malfoy's eyes was enough to prompt Zabini to say, "You should not have moved her to the Manor until we know more about her powers. This is too risky," and then he added, "Even for you."

"It was not safe enough to keep her imprisoned here. Not with the bombs exploding at the Ministry and us rescuing her from Hogwarts. In. Just. Two. Days. Time."

Malfoy punctuated each word of his last sentence, hoping that it was just a coincidence, but knowing better than to believe in that. The probability of all these events happening by accident was too low. How it would develop further largely depended on what he could find out from the girl he safely sheltered at the Manor. The lesson Malfoy trusted the most in life was to keep his friends close, and enemies even closer.

"Overlord," the voice of Minister for Magical Games and Sports interrupted Malfoy's internal discussion. "We are ready for you."

Malfoy nodded and thanked the man before turning back to his childhood friends. 

"Do me a favour and keep your ideas to yourself for a while longer. I heard them, I agree to some of it, but let us not destroy our progress here because of something we are uncertain of."

With those final words, Malfoy entered first, followed by Nott and Zabini. Council's monthly review with all of the Ministers was about to start. Draco's usual chair was out of commission as no spell seemed to be able to repair burn damages girl's magic made to the throne.

"Welcome to the Ministry, please take your seats," said the Head of International Magical Cooperation. "Let us not break the protocol, Overlord Malfoy," he continued, smiling at the audience like they were all in on a joke. "In the name of everyone present, we ask of you to accept the role that has been offered to you each month for the last 62 weeks. The seat of Minister of Magic is yours if you want it."

Malfoy smirked and replied in his usual tone, "You flatter me, but for the 63rd time, I still have to decline." 

Most of the topics were covered by everyone else but Malfoy. His only role to be present and listen. Most days he would do just that, but this week was simply not like any other.

Instead of paying attention, he tuned out by going through all of his issues since the Great War. Thankfully, his brain did not care about all the concerns from his younger life; otherwise, he would not be able to ever leave the room. 

A triple-traitor, switching sides as it suited him, from Lord Voldemort to Order and then back again just to end old Voldie's life. He never bothered to explain the reasons behind his mercurial loyalties. The last person who even bothered to ask was Professor McGonagall, and what good was that? He just found out, in the worst possible manner, that she was not as honest as she presented herself. 

"Maybe it's time to relocate the Ministry?" he suddenly heard a voice in the crowd saying.

"Are you crazy? Do you know how many centuries this building has? It is our legacy!" another voice screamed across the hall.

"Silence." Even in the lowest of voices, the hall room listened when Malfoy spoked. "We are not moving anywhere. If we start panicking, we might as well relocate the entire magical community somewhere else." Now when he commanded their attention, Malfoy pressed on. "This is why M.I.C. wants for us to be afraid of the Muggles. We are too hard to find, too hard to track right now. But put us in a group... In one single, big scared group. We will be like sheep for the slaughter. I have spent time researching Muggle history, trust me when I say that you don't wish to know how they treated their own kind. They would be even more ruthless with us."

"Ok, no moving then. What do you propose we do Overlord?"

"Expand the charmed perimeter around the building, the entrance needs to be completely hidden from the Muggles. We allow only Floo as a way in and out of the Ministry for the moment. And..." Draco made a pause, preparing himself for the news he was about to share. The Council has been working on this for months, keeping it hidden from everyone until they were sure about the proposal. "We have a team on the Council that got in touch with the American Government. I know some of you are still upset that no external help came to fight against Voldemort," a collective shudder at the mention of he Who-shall-not-be-named still passed the room, "But we need to leave our grudges behind. Americans have worked with their Nomags for centuries, and we need their expertise in this field. Mr Nott and Mr Zabini will tell you all the details of the work so far."

Since the floor was no longer his, Draco sat down, focusing inwardly again, leaving Blaise and Theo to handle the rest of the presentation. He tried to delegate as much as possible so that the other Council members would feel empowered and confident enough in their choices, even without his influence.

It has been his only desire in life, ever since he was a child, to be able to give up and hide away from everybody. Yet, this horrible, dark legacy he was born into would haunt him forever. A sense of duty that never allowed complete selfishness and putting himself first. Even when he tried, allowing Lord Voldemort to decide for him, a small part of his soul fought against it. It was how McGonagall made him a turncoat, promising that he would not carry the burden of power once Voldemort was out of the picture. All their secret meetings and planning turned to smoke when she was found killed. 

All of his work during the last couple of years since McGonagall's death was to place the groundwork for a country that could run itself once he was gone. It was going so well that he started to believe everything would be in place for his leave by the end of the year. Now, all of a sudden, he had an army of Muggles at his doorstep, an unknown woman who may or may not be a lethal weapon and a group of rogue wizards that did not understand they were making the situation worse and not better. 

Taking control and obliterating all the threats at once would be so much more effective if it only did not undermine his work thus far. It was the main reason why he chose to take care of the witch-problem singlehandedly. In all of his schemings, he could not understand how the girl fit the narrative.

Which is why Draco started to believe her being just a decoy, something for the Council to lose time over while the real enemy was succeeding to take them down. If he was the one spending time with her, it would allow his team to take charge just as he planned for them. 

* * *

After the meeting was over, Draco found himself walking around the Manor, still lost in his thoughts. The only thing on his mind during the entire day was the girl locked in the East wing. It has been only two days since she entered his life and made it a living hell, intentionally or not. He knew he would have to visit her soon and check on the healing progress of her back, yet at the same time, he wanted to keep away and prolong the inevitable interrogation that would happen as soon as she was feeling better.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! It's my first post, and I don't really know where I am going, but maybe it will become clear under the way. English is not my native tongue, so if you read something that really hurts your ears, please let me know.


End file.
